Don't Ever Let Them Know That I've Been Crying
by rosethornsinmyskin
Summary: AU. Pan won. Gold is trapped in a box. Henry is dead. Emma is grief stricken; Regina is destroyed. One shot about the aftermath of Neverland. Implied/Burgeoning Swan Queen. Might continue if requested.


Regina could still see it in her mind's eye. It kept playing over and over again like it was on loop. Henry's cold, unmoving body on the ground, the shrieks and cries that she was too disoriented to know were coming from her own mouth. She barely remembered anything after that. There were vague sensations of someone's arms tight around her, being pulled down into the cabin and tucked into bed. The taste of tears permeated her senses. And then everything went black.

The next morning she awoke to a sleeping Emma Swan crouched on the cold floor next to her bed, blonde head cushioned on the edge of the bed. It took Regina some blinking and regaining of her senses to realize that the woman's hand was firmly clasped between her own. She wondered why she had awoken to this somewhat compromising position.

And then it hit her again, rawer and even more real in the cold light of day.

Henry.

Neverland.

Dead.

She let out a strangled sob and let herself fall back against the pillow, the rush of emotions coming at her so fast it made her heart ache and threaten to give out. Emma startled awake at Regina's uncontrollable sobbing, and immediately she held Regina's hand tighter, as if out of reflex.

"Shh, shh," Emma tried to comfort Regina but tears were streaming down her own face again. Regina looked at her and squeezed her hand tighter in return, a sob escaping her throat once again. The closed her eyes and just cried, unable to mask her grief to the only person who could even begin to understand how she felt. She felt a shift on the bed and then Emma's body was pressing against hers, the warmth comforting but not enough to take the edge away from the pain in her chest. She turned inward and cried against Emma's chest. The blonde woman rested her chin on Regina's head and began murmuring inscrutable words. Regina eventually forced her tears to subside and opened her eyes again to look up at the savior who she'd so hated when they first met.

"We're – we're almost back in Storybrooke,"Emma muttered quietly. Regina nodded in understanding, though this news didn't really affect her, didn't really matter – she just felt hollow. "And – " Emma hesitated before going on – "We brought his body back for the funeral." Regina's eyes welled up with tears again and she cursed herself for all this feeling. But she couldn't help it – her only son was gone, gone forever. She had nothing now. Absolutely nothing.

They both turned their heads as there was a commotion upstairs, and then Snow's head peaked in through the cabin door. "Emma, Regina? We're back-" She stopped short when she saw her daughter huddled in bed with her nemesis. Regina hoped Snow would just chalk this up to their mutual grief, and not think that she and Emma had anything else going on. The suspicion and disapproval that would be met with was too much for Regina to deal with right now. Fortunately, Snow just swallowed, clearly trying to mask her surprise and said, "come out when you're ready," before gently closing the door behind her.

Emma turned to Regina and put an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "We can wait, if you want," Emma said. Regina nodded and nuzzled her face into the crook of Emma's neck, breathing deeply. She didn't want to be there when the group announced to the whole town that their mission had failed – that Henry was dead and that Peter Pan would live forever and that Gold was trapped inside a goddamned box. She didn't want to see the looks of disappointment and anger on their faces – didn't want to see any of these things directed at her. She already hated herself for allowing Henry to die – despite Emma's attempted comforting last night that it wasn't her fault, it was no one's fault, there was nothing more they could do. She should have fought harder, should've killed Pan sooner, should've, should've should've … Regina hated herself. And she could never look at life the same way again. It was empty now. Everything she'd ever fought for was gone – there were no more battles left to keep her going, no prospects of happiness or a normal life after this. Everything was completely screwed up.

She shifted and sat up in bed, Emma following suit, a questioning look in her eyes. "I think it's time to go outside." Regina said, and though she meant to sound self-assured, she just sounded shaky and broken. No, she didn't want to go, to face these people, but the truth was that the step outside was one step closer to her home and her room and her bed, and that was the only place she really wanted to be right now. So she stepped shakily out of bed and took Emma's hand, pulling the blonde up with her. "Are you sure?" Emma's face looked concerned. Regina nodded, but then paused for a moment and let go of Emma's hand to make her way over to the small mirror by the side of the cabin. She clutched a makeup brush in her hand and coated her face in the powder, applied eye shadow and mascara to her eyes, and dark tint to her lips. Then she turned back around and clutched Emma's hand in hers again once more. "Don't ever let them know that I've been crying," she said to Emma, her voice low, before tugging Emma towards the stairs and out the cabin door.

Outside, there were loud noises and protests and condolences going all around. Belle was crouched on the ground crying. And Regina couldn't help but sneer – her love was trapped in a box, not gone forever. She was sure they hadn't seen the last of Gold; he was never gotten rid of so easily. And yet Belle sat there whimpering like a little baby while Regina's son was in a place from which he could NEVER return. Eyes trained on the pair as Emma and Regina walked the plank down to land, some people looking – as usual – unhappy to see her but others looking like they – was it true? – _pitied _her. She didn't want their pity – those people who had hated her and wished the worst on her so many times. She knew they didn't really mean it, and she felt she was going to collapse under the gaze of their prying eyes. She noticed some people staring at her and Emma's linked hands, but she couldn't bring herself to care – she needed Emma's support or she might collapse to the ground right then and there.

Together, the pair pushed their way through the crowd, dodging condolences and questions and tainted greetings. Emma didn't protest as Regina led them down Main Street and away from the crowd, their faces growing small as specks in the distance. Regina didn't look back, didn't let herself think until they were at the door of her house on Mifflin Street. She held it together until they made it through the door and she'd closed it, locked it firmly behind them.

And then she collapsed to the ground, exhaustion and grief taking over. She curled herself into a ball, trying to get as small as possible as tears made her newly applied makeup run. She could hear Emma dropping to her knees, could feel the blonde's strong, lean arms scoop her up and begin carrying her up the stairs. Regina locked her arms around the blonde's neck like a vice, and buried her face in Emma's collarbone. She breathed in Emma's musky scent until her breathing evened somewhat, and then she muttered, "I don't want to go to the funeral." Emma placed her mouth tentatively on Regina's hair and kissed her gently there, and then whispered, "I know. Me neither. But you know we'll both regret it if we don't."


End file.
